


Reunion

by Amuly



Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-08
Updated: 2009-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:58:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donny escapes, Landa, Uti, and Raine go and get him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

 

Donny blinked. Donny then immediately regretted even that small iota of movement. Every single part of his body felt broken, lacerated, or bruised. He was pretty sure one thigh was crushed, his right wrist was snapped in two, and several ribs were crushed. After careful consideration, he also determined that there was something - a metal pipe perhaps? – jammed through and through his left calf.

Donny tried his best not to move or breathe. Even his heart beta throbbed through his whole body and made every part of his body hurt with every beat. Donny opened his eyes again and tried his best to move his eyeballs without passing out from pain.

It was dusty. Dusty and smoky. Donny tried his best not to notice this: coughing was the last thing he wanted to do, with the ribs in the state they were. There were rocks everywhere. Donny supposed that was what was left of the theatre. However, through the smoke and dust and rocks, Donny could see some light. It must be the next morning, he figured.

“Bonjour? Bonjour? Est-ce que n'importe qui est ici?”

Donny moved his eyeballs around. It was then he realized that it wasn’t morning: there was a rescue mission going on around him. What the hell language was he supposed to be speaking again?

“Ciao, ecco” Donny managed to croak out. His ribs ached and throat burned and lips cracked, but he knew he needed to get himself out of here.

“Bonjour? Où êtes-vous? Qui êtes-vous?”

Donny could feel the rubble vibrate around him; whoever was searching for him was getting closer. “Ecco,” he said again, as loudly as his broken body would let him.

The footsteps and vibrations grew louder, and the next thing Donny knew, a piece of rubble on top of his hand and shoulder was being moved. “J'ai trouvé quelqu'un! Amenez un docteur, rapidement!”

Donny couldn’t even move his neck to look at the person clearing the rubble off of him. All he managed was a mumbled “grazie,” before he passed back out.

Donny woke up in a hospital bed, feeling about a Fenway Frank away from 100% better than he had last time he had been conscious. Leaning his neck forward a bit, he examined the damage. Wrapped ribs, check. Cast all the way up his right leg, okay. Bandage around his left calf, right. Wrist in a split, more bandages on his arms. Donny lifted his non-splinted arm to his head and felt the bandage wrapped around it.

“Not bad.” He mumbled. Donny looked around. Shit. He had pretty much used up his Italian already. Did he still need to pretend to be Italian? Had the war ended? Spotting a nurse, Donny remembered another phrase he knew. “Ciao! Bella!”

The pretty French nurse walked over to Donny, pursing her lips together in mock-annoyance. “Bonjour, monsieur.”

Donny thought for a moment. “Telephono?” He held his non-broken hand up to his ear for added help in translation.

The nurse nodded. “Oui.” With a click of her heels, the nurse walked away.

Donny wiggled slightly in the bed, trying to make himself comfortable. His ribs prevented too much movement, but it wasn’t too bad, all things considered. A few moments later, the nurse returned with a cart. The cart carried a phone with a cord that reached all the way down the ward, from wall to wall.

Donny smiled at the nurse. “Grazie.” The nurse nodded and left.

Donny picked the phone up off its hook with his left hand, then set it down in his lap. He dialed with his left hand as well, then picked the phone back up with his left hand. He went to hold it up to his left ear, but discovered that ear was covered in bandages. Carefully, he reached his left hand across his chest and held the phone to his right ear. His ribs felt like they were creaking, but it was bearable. Donny snickered in his head. “Bearable.” Heh.

“Connecting to?” A voice came on over the line.

“Lieutenant Aldo Raine?”

“One moment.”

Donny was surprised. Not only was Raine apparently alive, but he was also in a place that had a phone. He figured the war must have really ended. There plan must have really, actually succeded.

“You’ve got Aldo Raine.”

Donny laughed. “Holy shit Lieutenant, it’s fucking amazing to hear your voice. Fuck.”

“Donny? Well you gotta be shitting me boy. You alive?”

“No sir. This is a phone call from the afterlife. I’m heah to tell you I’m gonna haunt you and the rest of the Basterds forevah.”

“You know son, getting blowed up sure didn’t help your jokes. Where the hell are you?”

Donny shrugged and looked around carefully, trying not to move too much. “Some Frenchie hospital, I figure right near the theatre. Hey, who you got with you?”

“Well, basically just Utivich and I are left. Oh, and our good friend Colonel Landa.”

Donny laughed, then winced. Fucking ribs, damn. But Utivich made it out. That was something for Donny to focus on. “Hey, Lieutenant, would you mind coming to get me outta heah? I ran out of Italian words about the minute I woke up.”

“Sure thing Donny. In fact, Landa and I will come down personally to collect you ourselves. I say Landa and I, because you see, that Colonel is going to stay attached to me until I’m sure he see some good old fashioned justice.”

Donny grinned wickedly. “Well sir, I’ve nevah questioned you before, and sure as fuck aren’t gonna start now. Though, couldya do me a favah?”

Aldo’s voice seemed to get real serious. “Well sure son, what do you need?”

“Could you bring Utivich along too? But don’t tell him I’m alive?” Donny’s stomach fluttered a bit.

Aldo paused for a moment. “Well, I suppose I can oblige you. Least I can do, for a bonafide war hero.”

Donny grinned. “Thanks Lieutenant.”

“Alright son, hold tight there. We’ll be seeing you real soon.”

Donny carefully extracted the phone from the right side of his head, and placed it back onto its receiver. The nurse walked back after a few moments. “Bon?”

Donny smiled broadly at her “Multo bene!” Donny wiggled himself carefully in his bed again. Slowly his eyes slipped close, a smile on his lips. Utivich was alive. Lovely, amazing, strong Utivich. Utivich, who he had fucked mercilessly the night before, thinking it was going to be their last night together. Utivich, who he had kissed before leaving him to walk into the theatre, when he thought no one was watching. Utivich was his only regret as he sat in the theatre, watching that piece of shit Nazi propaganda film. He regretted that he wouldn’t be able to see him again, hold him again, fuck him again. Donny sighed, and slowly sank into sleep.

Two weeks later, Donny wasn’t exactly a picture of health, but neither was he the mess of a man he was the day after the theatre explosion. His bandages were growing less and less copious, as various lacerations were deemed healed enough to breathe. His ribs were still securely wrapped: those could take months to heal fully. His wrist was in a splint now that allowed him to make use of the fingers on that hand. His right thigh was still in a full cast, but in another month or so it should be okay to put in a brace.

A call from Aldo had informed Donny that he was allowed to speak English again, which was a good thing for Donny. Unable to speak in nonsensical tirades made Donny feel more injured and disabled than any of his physical injuries made him.

In fact, Donny was busy trying to explain to a young British soldier the finer points of baseball (it’s a round bat, damnit, what the hell do you want that flat plank for?), when a nurse walked over to his bed. “Bonjour. Vos amis sont ici.”

Donny considered for a moment. Amis…”Oh! Er…merci!” Donny was just a natural with languages. Donny turned to the British soldier. “Hey, I’ll see you around. My friends are heah.”

The British soldier nodded and walked away. The nice young nurse was setting up a privacy curtain on all three sides of Donny’s bed. Donny had to say, he appreciated that. Especially since Utivich was going to be here…

“I told you Utivich, just shut your damn mouth and follow my orders. Just because the war is over sure as hell doesn’t mean you aren’t still my inferior. Landa, open the damn curtain.”

Donny smiled. Aldo didn’t have a voice that was easily mistaken for anyone else’s. The next second, the curtain swung open, and in walked Landa, Aldo, and a glum and pissed-off looked Utivich.

“Hey Uti.” Donny said, almost quietly. He didn’t expect himself to feel this…emotional? Happy? Overwhelmed, that was probably the best way to describe it.

Donny watched as Utivich’s eyes locked to his. At first his expression was one of incomprehension, then confusion, then surprise, and finally, “Donny!”

Utivich raced over to Donny, stopping short as he took in his injuries. “Oh holy shit Donny, are you okay? I mean, oh shit. Cracked ribs? Is it just your thigh broken, or is it the whole leg? What about your wrist?”

Utivich’s hands kept reaching out toward Donny, as if of their own accord. Donny smiled broadly, then reached out and grabbed Utivich’s hand with his left. “Hey, I’m alive.”

Donny watched tears well up in Utivich’s eyes. Any other time Donny might have given him shit about being such a woman, but right now, Donny felt almost the same. So he covered it up by pulling Utivich down for a kiss.

Utivich moaned and grabbed the sides of Donny’s head with both hands, thrusting his tongue in deep. Donny, for once, allowed Utivich to take the upper hand. He laid back, good hand reaching up for Utivich’s face. He rubbed his thumb along Utivich’s jaw line, as Utivich tongue-fucked his mouth.

A minute into the kiss, and right around the point that Utivich seemed ready to try crawling into bed with Donny, a loud cough interrupted them. Utivich pulled back and turned around. Donny leaned as far as he could, and looked past Utivich to Aldo. The Lieutenant and Hans Landa were standing with their backs to the privacy curtain, expressions equal parts confusion and surprise on both their faces.

“You two, would you mind holding off on that for a moment?”

Donny could see the tips of Utivich’s ears turn red from where he was lying, and was sure Utivich’s entire face was just as red as his ears. Donny just smiled lopsidedly and grabbed Utivich’s wrist with his good hand. Donny dragged Utivich back over to him, pulling him down into the seat next to his bed. Utivich stumbled, but sat. Donny didn’t let get of his wrist.

“Lieutenant.” Donny nodded roguishly.

Aldo, for his part, nodded back solemnly. “Donny. Good to see you’re full of vim and vigor.”

Landa, for his part, was unimpressed. “Figures. Jew scum. We were right to kill both your kind off at the same time.”

Before Donny could react, and possibly hurt himself, Aldo punched Landa in the nose. Utivich jumped up, but Donny refused to let go of his wrist. Eventually, once it was obvious Landa was hurt and bleeding, Utivich sat back down.

Aldo nodded again. “Well, we’ll just be leaving you boys alone then. Landa,” Aldo grabbed Landa by the back of the neck and shoved him out of the curtains.

Utivich turned and looked at Donny. “You’re alive.”

Donny shrugged. “Ain’t no fucking pansy-ass explosion gonna kill the Bear Jew.”

 

 

  



End file.
